A world in darkness
by Iggylove13
Summary: Parallel Prussia is a sadistic demon, like the rest of the Parallel countries from a world much darker than the normal one. So what happens when the Parallels all cross over to Normal world? All. Hell. Breaks. Loose.   Yaoi, rape, torture, many pairings.
1. Prisoner and Master

**HERRO GUYS****~!**_**  
><strong>_**Okay, well this fanfiction is based on an RP my friend and I have been keeping up for a ...whileee... Anyway, so all this crazy stuff has happened and I decided to make a fanfiction out of it because it was turning out so awesome. ****Everyone thank my friend and her glorious RPing to help create this fanfic too~****  
>Here's the full summary:<strong>

Parallel Prussia is a sick, sadistic demon, like the rest of the Parallel countries who come from a world much darker than the Normal one. So what happens when the Parallels all cross over to Normal world? All. Hell. Breaks. Loose.  
>But in the depths of this darkness...is there a chance for love? With the number of the countries doubled, and as the line between good and evil begins to blur, an unexpected hero must rise to save the world from it's constant peril.<p>

**Paringings: FrUK, SpUK, Prumania, ParaPrales (I'll see if ya can figure that out~), Romerica, FraIta...lots more.  
>Warnings: Yaoi, rape, torture, mpreg, language, OCs used (meaning the Parallel Nations and a few love-children)<br>Also, I'd like you people to keep in mind, because you may be confused who's Parallel and who's not, if the country acts sadistic in any way, he's Parallel. All the Parallels are demons. Hopethatdidn'tspoilanythingforanyone;  
><strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. Though the Parallel nations, and (normal) Wales are all OCs**

Chapter one: Prisoner and Master

_I first spied him through a window-_

_Like a mirror, a window was merely a thin plate of glass. _

_But instead of my own dark expression, I spied a world almost parallel to mine, but (unlike in my world,) he was there._

_And from that first sight sprung an obsession. He would be mine._

"Oh, _Angleterre"_

"_What?'_

"You're just so beautiful, _mon amour" _Francis Bonnefoy cooed and laced his slender fingers through the Englishmen's tousled blond hair, struck golden in the morning sunlight.

Arthur huffed and sipped his steaming tea, closing his eyes and pretending not to enjoy what his fiancé was doing.

_Fiancé?_

Was he a bloody git? It was only yesterday that Francis had proposed to him. He wasn't ready for that yet…

Nevertheless, he opened his eyes again and let a small blush dust his cheeks. "Oh shut up, you've only said that to me so many times before, Francis…" The Frenchman smiled, his blue eyes shimmering like the ocean. The ocean that lay only outside their little cabin.

Arthur still didn't like the idea of taking a break like this, being pulled away from his country work for a few days; he felt irresponsible.

Francis knew it was only the best for his bushy browed _Ange_ to get away from his work for just a while on their 'pre- honeymoon'. Being a nation was hard work…they both needed a vacation. Just a little time together, alone…

Francis bent down and set a plate of crepes in front of Arthur on the kitchen table. He pecked the blushing nation's cheek, smiling sweetly. "_Oui._ But it is so true I cannot fight the temptation to tell you every day~" he pulled away and strode to the kitchen to get his own food, returning in an instant and sitting down across from Arthur.

His long golden hair was pulled into a loose ponytail; some strands fell down and tickled his pale skinned neck, his blue eyes still danced with that flirtatious, but loving aura. He wore some kind of ridiculous pink apron that said 'kiss the cook'.

"…or, should I try some others words, like: exquisite, lovely, stunning, handsome, magnificent…" he commented, staring at Arthur.

The Englishman was blushing furiously, but he had a small teasing smile on his lips as he leaned forward and spoke to Francis: "Mmm…well I'm glad you've improved on your English vocabulary." he said, casting him another teasing glance before starting to eat his breakfast. "And thank you for the food…" he said after a bite.

Another advantage of being engaged to Francis: he never had to cook anymore…and he wasn't even allowed in the kitchen… usually…

"You're welcome, _mon amour"_

_****PAGEBREAK****_

His slender pale fingers drummed slowly against his cheek, the other hand tightly grasped a handful of sinister, rusted chains; clanking occasionally as he shifted. His feet were rested up on the table, his heavy black combat boots painted with splatters of dried blood. His dark crimson eyes were like the face of Death. They were deep, sadistic, and hungry.

His handsome but frightening face was lit with the ghostly light of the monitor screen his eyes were so directly fixed on. There were two small figures on the screen. Arthur and Francis, in the kitchen of that small little cabin.

His eyes were fixed on Arthur only, though. His target.

"He'll be mine…" he growled so softly in the dark. "Soon, he'll be mine… and that French bastard will be gone." He sounded so hungry. So sick. So obsessed.

There was someone else in the darkness with him, someone sitting next to him, veiled by darkness as he watched the screen too. His blue eyes glinted like electric sparks in the dim monitor light. He was biting his finger softly in thought. "When will you make the first move?' he asked his partner, eyes flickering to him.

The red-eyed demon laughed darkly. "First I have to bait him… He'll come to me when his lover's in danger… fall right into my hands. I'll have to capture Francis when the return..." a smirk had curved on his lips, he was so impatient.

The blue-eyed nation glanced at him, he was smirking too. "Good…" he cooed softly. "Make sure there's some prize in there for me too…" he said. But he was almost tentative to ask. It was obvious that he feared the Demon's power.

The Demon chuckled again. "Fine…" he growled.

Then with a sudden movement, he jerked his hand holding the chains forward, a loud clanking noise echoed through the cold stone-walled room. The sound was followed by a series of soft whimpers and there was a shuffling sound behind them, in the dark.

A shape emerged into the dim glow of light around both of the men's chairs. He was stumbling, eventually falling to his knees by the legs of the red-eyed Demon's chair. The Prisoner coughed a few times before lifting his face unwillingly to look up at his master. He was a lean, slender man. His face has an uncanny beauty, even smeared with grime and cover with sweat, His blue-green eyes were flashing fearfully, and his strawberry blond hair was matted and sticking to his face. He looked terribly beaten, and his arms were trembling slightly as he struggled to keep himself up. His clothes torn and dirty.

A rusty metal collar was set in place around his neck, the metal had already rubbed the skin raw and small trickles of blood snaked down his pale skin. The chains that came from the collar were currently in the hands of the Demon; his sadistic master.

"…but this one's mine…" growled the red-eyed one softly.

He was staring down at his prisoner with a malicious smirk that only the creatures of his wildest nightmares could match (then again, this was wilder than any nightmare the prisoner had experienced before)

A shiver cascaded down the Prisoner's spine. "Bastard…" he spat, but his voice was weak. He cursed his weakness.

"Hmmm…?" the Demon cooed, his smirk didn't disappear.

"Why, yes I am a bastard. I'm a horrible, sick bastard..." He stated, reaching down with a gloved hand to grasp the Prisoner's chin and jerk his head up so he couldn't look away. The Prisoner shivered again, trying to shrink away from the Demon's touch, but to no avail. "Understand that, pet. And the things I do to you will make you want to die. But I show no mercy... not even the favor of letting Death's cold grasp encircle you and save your soul.." He growled lowly, the look in his eyes one of pure insanity.

The red-eyed man jerked the chains forward more, pulling the Prisoner up to his knees as he gave a small yelp of pain and surprise. He rested one hand on the other's back so he wouldn't fall, his fingers brushing against his spine that was concealed under a thin shirt.

"But as you are mine now, it wouldn't be a good idea to insult your master…" he growled darkly in his ear, his warm breath ghosting over the smaller man's pale neck. "You will receive some punishment for your vile actions, my pet." he then pulled away, his silvery hair like a halo around his head in the milky light. A halo that he didn't deserve, seeing as he belonged in the fiery depths of hell.

The Prisoner clenched his jaw, knowing what pain that was too come. He sagged, defeated, against the chains as the Demon loosened them in his grasp. He was done having a little fun with his toy for now... the real games would start once he got his Prisoner alone...

He turned to his partner, who was silently typing on one of his laptops, his brown hair falling in front of the side of his face, hiding his concentrated expression. "What are you doing?" the Demon asked, lounging back in his chair and watching the screen.

The other was typing complicated things into the computer. "Hacking into the rest of the cameras," he growled under his breath, obviously needing all his concentration on his task. "Soon we'll have full footage of the cabin to make sure everything's going as planned…" he let out a victorious 'yes' when suddenly an image of the couple's bedroom popped up, along with their bathroom and a spot outside of the cabin; the garden.

The Demon gazed at the screen with an approving smirk. "Good…" he murmured, "oh, and Roderich, make sure to cut their trip a little short, I'm getting impatient for my beautiful Queen to be at my side."

He then stood up abruptly and yanked the rusted chains again, roughly pulling his Prisoner to his feet.

Wales, the Prisoner, bit back a cry and swallowed hard, trying to keep from stumbling into his Master, cringing at the thought of touching that sick, sadistic man. The man he knew would punish him with the worst; rape.

Gilbert Beilshmidt, the master, started walking, dragging Wales behind him and smirking at the other man's soft gasps of pain as he tried to keep up, the rusty collar on his neck causing more bloodshed.

Gilbert couldn't wait to hear him scream.

He left the room and closed the door with a _click_. They stood in a dim-lit dirty hallway that smelt of death and musty earth, it seemed to continue endlessly in each direction. But Gilbert started immediately dragging his Prisoner down one direction, his boots tapping eerily on the moist pavement- the chains clinked with deathly menace.

And they disappeared into the darkness, the prisoner being dragged into his living Hell.

**Haha I just love my P. Gilly... Anyways, REVIEW POR FAVOR. I'd like to see what you guys think of this craziness :3  
>Next chapter will contain some nice torture and rape~<br>Hope ya enjoyed!**


	2. A break in the plan

**Hey guys! Thank you soo much for the reviews CB *feels all special now***

**And, Perd-son-temps, to answer your question, (thanks for asking by the way, I didn't notice that it was a bit confusing at first) Arthur and Francis are both normal countries, but of course Prussia and Austria are Parallel. And Wales is normal. You can tell a parallel by if they're sadistic or not :3**

**Anywho, enjoy Chapter Two~! (holycrapthatrymed)**

Chapter two: A break in the plan

Rhys (Wales) was slammed violently against a dirty, blood-stained wall and shoved to a sitting position. His breath was knocked out of his heaving chest, causing him to give a strained gasp. He panted, adjusting his eyes to the dark room. A small bit of light penetrated through the crack in the closed door so he could just barely make out the shape of the Parallel Demon in front of him, bending down on the icy smooth concrete ground.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want this to happen, oh God he did not want this to happen…

He wasn't ashamed that he was still a virgin. He wanted to wait for the right person to take it away… Someone he loved. No, not a sadistic Demon. And not by rape.

He cursed himself over and over again for taking a walk down that dark alleyway two nights ago… where he'd run into and was kidnapped by someone he'd thought was Gilbert, but soon realized it was his twin; Parallel Prussia.

He tensed when he felt the stiff fabric of Gilbert's glove against his cheek, sending goosebumps to rise on his arms, the hand slid down his neck and brushed against his collar bone. Then the hand pulled away, yet Rhys didn't allow himself to relax.

P. Prussia stared down at his beautiful little toy with a dark calculating gaze, as if determining how much it would take to break him. He was so young-looking and innocent, pressed against the wall, his head turned away from Gilbert, eyes squeezed shut.

He didn't like that. He wanted to see those pretty aqua colored sapphires of his.

"Now, don't be scared…" he crooned so softly and maliciously, then he stood up for a second, reaching over to retrieve something that was hanging on the wall; his favorite little toy.  
>Rhys let out a sharp gasp when he felt the cool tip of a blade pressed to his eyelid, digging just barely into his skin.<p>

"Open your eyes for me…" growled Prussia, at his ear. Rhys fought a shudder, his insides turning to ice with fear and dread, knowing he had to engulf himself in pain.

He slide his eyes open, whimpering when he felt the blade dig into the flesh of his eyelid, pain shooting through his head and he felt Demon smirked, red eyes glinting in the very dim light.

"Now turn you head for me, I want to see your beautiful face."

He obeyed, more pain shooting into his head as Prussia didn't move the blade. He tried his best to glare at his capturer, but it faltered. "P-please…" he begged, "Please just get it over with…" the fact that this was all so slow only made it worse.

P. Prussia laughed insanely. "Patience, sweetheart. You'll get it soon enough…" he said, then moved the blade down and expertly sliced his shirt away, getting a good high-pitched cry of pain from his prisoner. He wanted more.  
>Rhys felt his shirt being torn away and he pressed himself painfully against the wall, trying to get away from Gilbert's touch. Intruding on places he only would let a lover touch. He felt warm blood running down his chest and stomach, feeling the unbearable agony of the cut across his skin. But that was only the beginning.<p>

Soon Gilbert's mouth, and tongue, where on his skin. It hungrily licked up the crimson liquid... He gasped, a shudder passing through his slender body, he hated this so much. So, so much.

P. Prussia flicked his tongue right over the gash he'd caused, his artwork. He then pulled up and jerked Rhys into a rough kiss, pulling back with a snarl when Rhys bit his bottom lip. He smacked his Prisoner hard across the face, Rhys' head snapped to the side and he gasped, but bit his lip against a cry.

"Bad boy…" he hissed, then roughly grabbed Rhys' arms and jerked one up against the wall, locking it into a shackle that was on the wall, doing the same to the other so that the Nation's arms were raised above his head, exposing his body.

Rhys, his whole body burning in agony, and his arms feeling as if they were about to be torn off, cringed away, tears streaming down his fearful face.

Gilvert moved forward and nudged a knee between Rhys' legs, causing another cry. He kissed his neck. "Now, we can play a little game~." He loved games. Gilbert unbuttoned the smaller man's pants and tore them off, smirking, his eyes wandering down Wales' beautiful exposed body, and it was all his.

Rhys struggled the best he could, but Gilbert's knee was in a place that made it painful for him to move, he remained relatively still, shivering. He hated that demon with such a burning passion; he hated how he looked at his body like he was some new car.

A gasp escaped his trembling lips when Gilbert grasped a handful of his hair and roughly jerked his head back to expose his neck, he felt the Demon's lips at his ear. "Now, you will behave yourself so you don't have to take any unneeded punishment, understand?" he growled sharply. Rhys only gave a whimper of a response, and Gilbert smirked, licking his ear before reaching down and unbuttoning his own pants and freeing himself.

He then gripped Rhys' hips and thrust powerfully into him.

A scream ripped through Rhys' throat and his back arched, the pain was beyond anything he'd felt before, he felt as if his whole being was ripping apart. The fact that Gilbert was so large didn't help, either.

By the second and third thrusts, he was screaming even louder, the noise echoing through the room. He felt something rip down there, and blood was beginning to coat his entrance, making it easier for P. picked up his speed, thrusting harder and wilder and not even caring to keep a steady pace. He groaned in pleasure, grinding his hips against Wales, feeling the nation wither underneath him, screaming in pain.

"My name." he growled, breathless, into the Nation's ear. "I want to hear my name…" he then bit down hard on his prisoner's pale shoulder, sinking his teeth in and tasting blood in his mouth. He thrust harder, hitting his prostate without knowing.

that's when Rhys screamed Gilbert's name, loud.

Gilbert smirked and pounded that spot again, and again. Hard. Rhys was now sobbing and screaming in pleasure and pain.

Prussia grabbed his member and rubbed the tip, making the man beneath him gasp and wither, unwillingly feeling himself becoming aroused. P. Gilbert slammed at his prostate again and Wales came with a scream, his back arching as white spots clouded his vision.

The Demon thrust a few more times before he too climaxed, gripping his hips then pulling himself out of the prisoner.

Rhys sagged lifelessly against the rusty chains, covered with blood and cum. His eyes were half open and his chest rising and falling with slow breaths as he felt himself slowly slipping to unconsciousness.

P. Gilbert cleaned himself up then slipped his pants on again. He grinned down at his master piece, already impatient to do more. He bent down and pressed his lips to Rhys', the nation was too weak to do anything about it. Gilbert pulled out of his kiss and pushed a strand of hair behind Rhys' ear before pecking his lips a last time and murmuring, "sleep well, my pet." Then he stood up and left, closing the door behind him and leaving his broken toy behind.

XXXXXXXXX

Francis sighed heavily. He was lying on his back on him and Arthur's bed, staring up at the ceiling and watching the golden sunset light dance over it.

He was chewing on his lip in worry, still gripping his phone. He'd read through the text America had sent him over and over again. But he still couldn't believe it.

Alfred had texted him signs of pregnancy. Francis had asked for him to do so, because he was beginning to get worried that _something_ was going on with Arthur… Ever since the night they'd gotten to this cabin and of course had sex.  
>But Arthur's condition had matched all those symptoms. And now Francis had managed to convince him to take the test.<br>The the bathroom door clicked open and Francis started to a sitting position, his eyes searching the Englishman's face as he walked out. "Ange…?"

Arthur was staring blankly ahead, shock written all over his face. His hands were trembling; he couldn't exactly manage to get the words out.

Then he nodded silently."I'm…I'm pregnant."

XXXXXXXXX

P. Austria's eyes widened as he watched the screen, he clenched his fists, worry starting to gnaw at his stomach.

He repeated the words over and over in his head:_ I'm pregnant…_

What was Gilbert going to do to him when he told him this….?

Just as if on cue, Parallel Prussia walked into the room, his hair was slightly ruffled and there were a few spots of blood on his shirt. He seemed in a better mood. The mood he was always in after torturing, as if the bloodshed had fed the demon inside of him.

P. Prussia slumped down into his chair, sighing and pulling his knife out, twirling it around expertly between his fingers. The blade glinted silver in the dim light, but not once did it even cut Gilbert's pale skin. The Demon's red eyes watched the blade; they had a lighter look to them now, but still just as evil. He was thinking, imagining his near future.

Killing Francis and taking Arthur for his own were only the first steps. After that, he'd send all Parallels under his control to start eliminating the Normal countries in secret and replacing them. And when he'd risen to enough power, it would be time for the Parallel nations to reveal themselves and take this world as theirs.

After that, all the Normal nations would be dead, and he would be the leader…. The King of the new world he'd created, with the only Normal nation left, Arthur, by his side as his Queen.

That's when P. Austria took a deep breath and looked over at Gilbert; bracing himself for the pain he was just about to put himself into.

"Err… boss? There's something I have to tell you…"

**Okay I'm finally done. I've been trying to figure out so many things OTL**

**But yep. That's the reason why it's rated M... CB**

**THERE IS LOTS TO COME. LOTS. Read and review, s'il vous plait!**


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